On The Line
by Burdened-With-Glorious-Love
Summary: Castiel had been missing for weeks and when he finally meets back up with the Winchesters, Dean does something drastic. Destiel. (set after 8x10 - 8x11)
1. Chapter 1 - The First Move

On The Line

"What the hell did I do?" Dean shook his head at the ground from his perch atop the Impala's hood. "I should have known better."

"How could you? We don't even know if he could have feelings like that." Sam sat next to him in just as much befuddled awe.

Dean gave a mirthless chuckle, "Pretty sure he doesn't even know. I mean I know he can have the... the..."

"Desire?" Sam offered.

"The _that_, but I didn't think he could think of anyone that way. What, with his being an emotionless dick and all."

Sam smiled at him, "I think he'll come around."

"Sam I-" Dean looked over at his brother to see him taking a long pull from his bottle, waggling his eyebrows as he eyed him. "I hate how much you're loving this." Sam released the bottle from his lips with a small popping sound.

"Come on, I see how you look at each other. The way you _always _worry over him." He continued smiling, "The way you hide your porn from him." That struck a nerve that caused Dean to make him nearly lose his balance on the hood of the car.

"God damn it Sam, I kissed him. I friggin' _kissed _him." He buried his face in his hands.

"Come on, we both know that's not the worst thing you've ever done to an angel." It wasn't really a comforting thought.

"That's just it. He knows what I'm like, and now I've scared him off." He leaned back until his head hit the windshield with a soft thunk. "I don't even know what I'm doing anymore. He must think I've lost it."

Sam got up to put the cooler back in the trunk. "He doesn't think, he _knows._"

"Not helping." He covered his face again. "I was just so... in the moment you know."

"He saved your life, I get it. You don't have to defend yourself to me."

"I have to for _me_. He is, or was, my best friend. He 's been there for me from the beginning and now I go and screw it up by making him think he's no better than some chick I just pick up when I feeling sleazy."

"You are the poster-child for self-loathing, you know that?" Dean wanted to drive off and pretend it never happened. He hopped into the front driver side, started her up, and revved the engine. "Where're we going?" His brother asked, slipping through the passenger side door.

"Anywhere but here." The tires screeched on the pavement as he let himself go.

They had driven for hours but he couldn't find the will to stop going, even though they had already passed three motels and Sam was snoring quietly while the soft sound of guitars hummed from the radio. Dean had let the day's events drift from the front of his mind, but they were still picking away at his nerves.

Castiel had been missing for weeks. They hadn't seen him since what happened to Alfie, or sorry _Samandriel._ And when he showed up nearly risking his own life for umpteenth time, Dean couldn't really believe it. He'd been gone for weeks, no months, without a word. Not even a phone call, their prayers reaching out to deaf ears. Their trench-coated angel was weary and bloody, hardly able to walk. But he was a good little soldier, and he pierced the demon that pinned Dean to the concrete wall, ready to rip out his throat and other various organs. Cas seemed unfazed by the monstrosity, eyes only meeting Dean's, but they seemed distant. Once the demon was down for the count, he methodically propped a sluggish and nearly unconscious Sam against the wall next to his brother. Without a word to either of them, he turned his back ready to fly off as if he had the strength for it.

"Wait." Dean choked out, stopping Castiel cold. "You can't just leave."

"I have other matters to attend to." He responded as detached as he could, but Dean was already up and pulling him around by the shoulder into a hug that would knock the breath out of anyone else.

"Where have you been man?" Castiel opened his mouth to respond that it was none of the Winchester's concern, but was cut off by a soft something at his lips. For a second it was familiar, but far less needy and rough. Dean's lips parted from his own silently, pulling him back into an embrace and trying desperately to not let the angel see the widening of his own eyes at what he had just done. Castiel hadn't made a move to hug him back, stiff and rigid as a stone. And then, gone. The eldest Winchester's arms wrapped around air as the breeze whipped his face.

"Wow." Dean turned around to see his brother staring wide-eyed at him. "I knew that... but I never thought that..."

"_Don't. Say. Anything._" Dean shot at him. Never wanting to think about the repercussions of what he did. But here he was, driving 60 on a 45 mph road, thinking about it. Sam dead to the world in the seat next to him, pleased as punch to see Dean 'expressing his feelings'. He'd punch him, but it wouldn't make what he did go away. So for now he just kept driving 'till he couldn't hold his eyelids open.

There was a breeze at the back of his neck and the soft flutter of wings. The angel appeared in the rearview mirror, causing Dean to swerve, nearly waking Sam beside him. "Cas?" Dean whispered.

"Hello Dean." He replied to the floor. Dean pulled over next to the open field, the tall grass brushing up against the passenger door. He rushed out of the car. Castiel leaned against the truck, considerably cleaner than he'd previously been.

"Cas what the hell happened to you?" He didn't make a move for physical contact.

Castiel gazed out to the field. "I came to apologize, for my abrupt departure... and my absence."

"Where have you been man?" From the rear light of the Impala, he could see the conflicted squint on the angel's face.

"It is not for you to know, not at this time. But I am sorry, truly, for not being there for you or Sam." Dean wanted to argue that it was there damn right to know, he was like their God damned family. "You caught me off guard back there." He changed the subject quickly.

Dean swallowed hard. "Sorry... I should've-"

"Do not apologize." Cas' voice held the sound of a smile. He pushed off the trunk of the car, putting himself once again in a position that for any other company would be too close for comfort. He then leaned up and reciprocated Dean's earlier advance, making it even more awkward, if that was even possible. Dean's shock wore off quickly as he leaned into the kiss. It lasted far longer than their first, more want, and more cohesion. Castiel stopped just short of Dean reaching up to cup his face, which he did anyway once Cas pulled away.

"I didn't think-" Dean started.

"I did not give you the chance to think." Cas interrupted him with a tired smile. "I have been gone, and I've come back to tell you that I'm okay. You should not come looking for me." Something though, lay hidden in those words. Something in his face, a mask like quality over a lie.

"I would if you'd just tell me where you have been."

"Heaven." He replied a bit too quickly. It was still the truth... sort of...

"Alright." Dean said not really believing it, but how was he going to stop the dick with wings? "Just promise me something." He requested, going over and reaching into the car to pull out one of their spare cell phones. "Keep in touch, okay? No more of this 'months at a time' thing." Castiel nodded and took the phone, not really responding. He brought him into a tight embrace.

"I am so sorry, Dean." And he was gone. Dean left out in the cold again. He let out a sigh and ran to the driver's side, slamming the door shut and skidding off so fast that motion jolted Sam awake.

"Huh, what?" Sam wiped away the sleep from his eyes trying to take in his brother's urgent instructions.

"I said call Garth." Dean repeated.

"Why?"

"You got GPS on that spare cell?" Dean asked urgently ignoring him.

"Yeah, but why?" He said hitting Garth's speed dial.

"Cas is in trouble." And God damn it, he was going to find out what.

Notes:

Special thanks to Tak (aka BTRhpgeek21) for being a great, supportive friend and editor 3

Her page here: u/2929177/BTRhpgeek21


	2. Chapter 2 - Dropped Calls

Dropped Calls

The unsurprisingly dingy motel room was insignificantly similar to the hundreds of others they've been to. Sam hurriedly snapped open his laptop and set himself up for wifi.

"So, you think he's working for someone?" He offered, logging in.

"I don't know what to think... he's hiding something." Dean snapped his cell shut after speaking with the phone company to turn on the GPS. "Are you on?"

"Dean we're in the middle of nowhere, internet isn't exactly lightning speed around here." Sam replied with a sigh. "Look, I know you're worried, but Cas is a grown man... or ... angel."

"An angel with a previous God complex, demonic hallucinations bad enough to get him locked in the nut house, and a trip to purgatory to ice the crazy cake." He couldn't stop pacing the room, running his hands through his hair and fidgeting to keep his sleeves above his elbows. He kept glancing down at the phone in his hand with impatience.

"It's been two hours, he's not gonna call." Dean's boy problems stopped being funny about an hour ago and were starting to chip away at Sam's nerves. "Could you sit?"

"I'll sit when I know what's going on." Garth hadn't exactly been comforting. He told the Winchesters there wasn't much they could do if what he was doing truly was the will of heaven, they better not poke the bear. But leaving shit alone just wasn't the Winchester way.

Sam tried ineffectively to lighten the mood."Never pegged you for the clingy type, but I should have known-" Dean shot him a look that said shut up or I'll shut you up. "Alright, so what are we gonna do? He could be anywhere." He wanted to help his brother but he wasn't sure of what they could do. The laptop finally logged in to track the phone. Sam's eyes pinned down the tracker on the screen. "I got him." Dean was quickly over his shoulder seeing that he was somewhere over a rural area in Iowa.

"Son of a bitch better pick up." Dean dialed and shoved his phone to his ear.

Bright light caused Cas to squint despite himself as he once again found himself in the eerily familiar room in what he was told was heaven. The chair he sat in made him feel minute compared to the woman across the desk who relaxed, superior in her charge.

"You've done well Castiel, He would be proud." Her voice was thick like molasses, the smothering smugness of it made his empty stomach churn.

"I am finished with your instructions." He stated his voice cold with distaste. He didn't want to be here. This place gave him a blinding headache. Too white walls bombarded his vision. The silence and stillness made his ears ring. It reminded him of a familiar hospital. Naomi gave him a smile.

"You are a soldier. You will be finished when I give the order." Her voice was rather soft and gentle, ill fitting to the demands she gave. He moved to argue, but she held up a well-manicured finger to halt him. "You might want to get that." The ringing in his ears grew louder, and then began to develop into a tune. He reopened his eyes to the midst of a field. An old barn creaked in the night wind behind him.

The phone in his pocket buzzed and rang. He pulled it out of his pocket to read the number: _Dean's 2nd cell_.

Cas glared blankly out into the night. He felt odd, as if there was something that he couldn't remember. Something he needed, something important. He felt in his pockets to find them empty. _Huh._ He felt a small trickle down the side of his nose like a stray tear. He wiped the sticky ooze from his eye with little curiosity. Something in the back of his mind told him not to worry about it.

Then he heard it, the familiar call. Somewhere out in the vast spans of the world a small baby cried, stricken with pneumonia. He abandoned the field to answer the desperate mother's prayers, leaving behind the forgotten nothing that slipped his mind. Letting it ring unheard in the dirt.

"You should sleep." Sam tried coaxing his brother onto the questionably colored mattress. "You're in no shape to drive all the way to Iowa. Its three a.m., just go to bed." Dean didn't respond other than a worried sigh, as if he could sleep. Dressed in his usual boxers and stained tee, he lied flat facing the ceiling under the stiff sheets. His pillows propped up awkwardly against the headboard so he was better elevated.

"Sammy?" He asked, still looking at the water stains in the plaster.

"Goh tuh sleephf." Sam buried his face in the flat pillow, muffling his words. Dean could see he was not in the listening mood. Maybe he was freaking out too much, but that was what he did. He had to be there to protect Sam, and when he was M.I.A., it was Ben and Lisa. He'd let too much get broken and screwed up already. He wasn't going to let it happen again, not with Cas' track record as bad as it is.

He only slept when his eyelids could no longer hold their own weight. And he dreamt, peaceful dreams. He was little again, no older than three or four. His mother baked pie in the kitchen, sitting toddler dean on the counter so he could watch as she filled the insides with ripe red cherries. In another he was older, Sam slept beside him curled up like a cat while he waited for his dad to come home from a hunt. Snow flurried outside the window and an old episode of Scooby-Doo played quietly on the old motel TV. They were quiet memories, simpler things, here to tell him that it wasn't all bad. They usually found a way out of trouble, even some pretty damn impossible situations. It was enough comfort to keep him lulled in sleep until morning.

Sam was already up, he'd picked up breakfast for the two of them, his food half eaten as he clicked and clacked away at his laptop. He didn't say anything as Dean headed to the bathroom for a hot shower. Dean let his mind swim in the passing memories of his dreams as the steamy water sputtered from the showerhead. Content for once, with just forgetting.

He exited the bathroom, pulling on his shirt and headed straight for the bagged food on the table that his stomach growled for. He ripped open the bag and unraveled the breakfast burrito with a smile that felt foreign on his face.

"Sammy, you ok?" He hadn't said a word all morning. He pulled his eyes away from the screen with some effort, blinking from the strain.

"I just," He made a worried click with his tongue. "I don't get it."

"What?" Dean asked through a mouth full of burrito.

"Okay, so Cas is in Iowa right? But he isn't near any major roads or towns. He's just kind of out there. And the closest thing to anything human is this old barn that from here," he pulled up a bird's eye view from Google earth. ", Looks like it hasn't been touched in thirty years at least. And looking up current news from nearby town shows nothing out of the ordinary. Not even a case of the flu. Yet," He clicked back to the GPS tracker. ", Cas hasn't moved since last night. He's just... out there."

"Huh," Dean picked up his phone off the table.

Sam stopped him. "I already called him, no answer." It didn't take long for Dean to decide their next move.

"Iowa, here we come." Dean mumbled through his last bit of breakfast before running to get their duffle bags.

The baby's cries softened and then quieted immediately after a touch from Castiel's first two fingers on his soft chest. The pneumonia pulled with relief from the poor child's lungs. The mother slept in the stiff looking chair next to the hospital bed, her forehead wrinkled with worry. He wiped a tear from her cheek with his thumb and as the strain of her concern melted from her brow, she slept peacefully.


	3. Chapter 3 - Hi Kevin

Hi Kevin

The over drawn Prophet scratched at his notepad. Garth couldn't believe the kid was still awake. He only had about five hours of sleep in the past week, but Garth let him be, not wanting to be bitched at for disturbing the Prophet of The Lord. So he decided it was good a time as any to check up on the deal with the Winchesters. They had asked him to keep an eye on the GPS on one of their phones. Why it mattered, Dean wouldn't say. He got a little defensive about it actually. He signed in and checked on that phone as well as the two of theirs. The ambiguous owner was somewhere in Iowa, and the brothers seemed well on their way toward him... or her... or it. It would sure take them a few days to get there, but the tracer didn't seem to be in a hurry to move anyways.

After a few minutes of surfing, he went back to the tracer. The unknown third blip had not seemed to move at all despite the fact that they were in the middle of nowhere Iowa while the boys had sped their way closer to that vacant field. At a speed, that Garth mentally calculated as probably illegal.

_Who the hell has that phone?_ He wasn't too far away from them. He could scope the place out. With any luck, he could meet the boys there.

"Kevin."

"WHAT?" He slammed the pen down on the table.

Garth rolled his eyes, "I'm going to be out for a few days." Kevin gave him something resembling an affirmation without actually looking up at him. "I'll be back soon."

"I promise I won't sink your house." He moaned, unenthusiastic about being interrupted. What kind of desert was this supposed to be if he couldn't get any peace and quiet out in the middle of the water? He dumped out another aspirin into his palm. The headaches were getting worse.

"We will be docked for a while, so..."

"It's not like I'm going anywhere." He said with an irritated sigh.

"Call me if anything happens." He received a mindless nod. "Don't forget to sleep." He reminded him with an apprehensive onceover before he headed to pack, leaving the teenager to his scrawling.

A few hours after Garth had left it was already dark. Whatever light gleamed through the small window in Kevin's work place was gone, replaced by a black void of heavy hitting rain rattling the dingy glass. He tossed his pen across the room in exhaustion. He was tired of squinting and making half-sure translations of the impossible text. The soothing tap of the rain didn't help his lethargy. Throwing his head down on his folded arms, he shielded his face from the light of the desk lamp.

"Just a few minutes..." He moaned, burying his face deeper into the crook of his elbows. _Just a few... minutes..._

**xXxXxXx**

"I think I found something!" Sam shouted across the wide field. It had taken them a few days to get but Cas' signal stayed put. Dean who was rummaging around the rickety barn squeezed himself through a hole in its side to b-line his way to check out what his brother found. Sam held up a small object for him to see. "Look familiar?" He asked, tossing it to Dean who inspected the phone with displeasure.

"Damn it, Cas." He mumbled to himself. The missed call alert blinked on the home screen. _5 missed calls from Dean's 2nd cell. _"When did he get here again?"

"About a half an hour before we first called." Sam sighed, searching the dirt around where he found the phone for any other sign of the angel. "Doesn't even look like he took a step." There were only two clear footprints left from where Cas had stood. No path to, or away from them. He must have flown off. Dean gripped the cell tight in his fist before chucking it aimlessly at the barn, breaking a small hole in the wooden side.

"Well what now?" He threw his arms up with enraged question.

"Hey guys!" Dean whipped around to see a squirrely looking figure in a beat up baseball cap and a jacket two sizes too big running his way towards them from an old Ford Ranchero.

"Garth?" The brothers inquired in unison.

"Saw you idgits were following something out here, seemed suspicious that it wasn't running from you." Garth explained jogging up to the boys. "Figured there might be trouble."

"This is none of your business." Dean grumbled, irked more by the awkward use of Bobby's slang then his meddling habits.

"Dean," Sam nagged before deciding the argument wasn't worth it. He turned to Garth. "It's Castiel."

"Your little angel boy friend?" Dean glowered at him, the smaller man's demise playing out grotesquely behind livid eyes.

Sam cut in before Dean could make his move, "Yes." He rolled his eyes for Dean's sake. "He's missing."

"Well he's an angel, wouldn't he be in heaven?"

"The last time we saw him he was," Dean sighed, "He was different. Like he was playing good little soldier again. Well, if you can define anything he's done as 'good'."

"Well he's just doing his job right?"

"He wouldn't just go back to heaven. Not after what he did." Dean's argument grew grim with every word.

"Did he _promise_?" Garth asked, a little teasing. "Cause he's always kept his word in the past hasn't he?" The snarky tone was the match in the powder barrel. Sam had to physically restrain his brother now, who was well on his way to giving this smartass a shiner he wouldn't forget.

"He killed his brother, an innocent angel who we had just risked our asses to save!" Dean growled. "He's been lying to us for days! Running from us for weeks! Showing up to help bloody and beaten, only to leave without explanation! This is not his job!" Sam's hold stayed strong around his torso, the only thing preventing him from beating Garth to the ground. He soon relaxed, but his voice stayed menacingly morose. "If you're going to help us, fine. But if you're going to bitch like a smartass, you'd better get back to babysitting."

**xXxXxXx**

_The abandoned warehouse's ceiling was high enough to make your stomach drop. The air outside grumbled with the beginnings of an oncoming storm. The winds churned as an apparition of a man appeared directly following a sudden bolt of lightning, fierce in his demeanor. He burst through the waiting warehouse doors. A second man, older and less menacing was waiting for the fearsome figure. _

_"I knew you'd come brother." The man didn't bother to face his threat. He wiped away droplets of oozing blood still dripping down his furrowed brow. "You must stop this. We haven't done anything wrong. This was done to us. Not by us. Brother please, you don't understand what you are doing." He fell to his knees feeling it was hopeless. _

_"Heaven doesn't recognize your innocence. You have disobeyed. You have turned over our principal secrets to our biggest enemy. By the will of heaven, you must stomach the consequences of your sins." His voice was thick and robotic as he spoke to the back of the pleading man's head. _

_"Please. Look in your heart, you know this is wrong." The kneeling man turned around to plead. Castiel, however was unmoved. _

_"I know of no such thing." He pulled the blade from his bloodstained coat._

_"You know not the reasons why you kill." There was barely any fight left in him. Confused by the words, Cas cut the man short by ramming the blade heartlessly into his ribs, deep and final. His eyes and mouth erupted with light while an agonizing scream ripped from his throat. He fell to the concrete, a full wingspan splayed and burned on the floor beneath him. Castiel's unmoving face liquefied away, morning light waking the witness of the cataclysmic events_.

Kevin sprung up from his chair with eyes still fuzzy from sleep and a lick of drool still wet on his cheek. He fumbled for the phone nearly tossing his notes to the ground.

"Garth?"

"Yea, Kevin?" The surprised voice said over the line. If their prophet, hell bent on deciphering was taking the time to actually pick up the phone and dial, it must be important.

"I think I saw something."

Note: updated to add italics and page breaks (sorry). Thanks Tak for the advice and telling me the breaks weren't showing up. (:


	4. Chapter 4 - Call Return

Call Return

"And that's all you saw?" Dean asked with urgency over the line as he scribbled out the details of the prophet's vision on the back of a motel pamphlet.

"Yeah," Kevin sighed. "That's all, sorry Dean." The apology sounded sincere enough. Dean thanked him, told him it was all right, and to call him if he saw anything else useful.

"We don't know where his is, but we know where he will be." He turned over his notes for his brother and Garth to read. The address was of some old abandoned warehouse just outside a fishing port.

"Then we'd better get going." Sam sighed. "Any idea when he will be there?"

"Minimum of two to three days," Garth chimed in. The brothers eyed him suspiciously. "What? You think this is the first time the kid had a vision. A few months of 'Oh my God, déjà vu' will keep you on schedule, and it never fails." The boys raised their brows at each other. "I'm stocked up on supplies at HQ so it'd probably be good if we head there. It's actually not too far from there." He rapped his finger on the pamphlet. He had been cautious about speaking in general since their last argument, not wanting anything to slip that could cause either of them (mostly Dean) to snap.

"Sounds like we got a lead." Sam offered, deciding for the group to go along with Garth's plan. During the drive to 'HQ' however, Dean was forming plans of his own.

"If we beat them there we'll have the jump on them." Dean said more hopeful than was necessarily plausible.

"Dean," Sam hated being the downer. "Kevin saw it. You know how prophecies work."

"We never defied Fate before? Come on Sam, we could save an innocent-"

"We won't. We _can't_. Remember when we first met Chuck? We played this game before and lost." He worriedly glanced at Dean's tightening hands on the wheel.

"The least we can do is try."

"Just don't get your hopes up okay?" Sam said, looking to the backseat. Garth stayed quiet, knowing all too well that arguing the fact that there was no saving the doomed angel would only cause him trouble. He would just let the eldest Winchester believe he could stop Castiel if he cared enough. But, that wasn't how fate worked. The rest of the drive was silent other than the radio that Dean progressively cranked higher as the day went on, trying to drown out his own anxious thoughts with blaring guitar and ruggedly sung lyrics.

**xXxXx**

The bed was warm despite the chill of the winter weather, snow flurries turned to a thick blizzard, and Dean wrapped himself tighter in the covers. Sam's bed was empty and tidily made. An extra key for the room next door still sat on the table where he had left it. _They must not be back yet_. Dean thought. Sam and Garth had gone out to pick up some supplies while Dean booked their rooms. Apparently he 'was in no shape to drive' as Sam put it. He had to admit, four hours of sleep for three days just wasn't cutting it anymore.

Shivering from the slight draft, he rolled closer to the center of the bed. It was warmer here and a tickle of hair brushed against the tip of his nose. Startled, he shot up and away from the figure beside him. The figure turned over to face him in the dark and looked inquisitively upon him with those big blue eyes. An arm reached up and pulled him gently back down to the pillows. Their faces were so close that their noses almost touched.

"Cas..." Soft lips cut off Dean's question, warm and inviting they pressed into his own. Cas' hands cradled Dean's face, thumbs caressing the stubble on his cheek.

"I missed you." The angel whispered, the heat radiating from his bare chest invited his cold bedmate to come closer.

"Me too." Dean's hands mindlessly searched for the small of Cas' back. Only instead of flat skin, he found a smooth down-like sensation brush over his fingers. He stroked them gently and Cas ruffled the wings in response.

"Most people are not able to feel them." Cas breathed onto Dean's lips.

"I can." He affirmed.

"You're not most people." The angel chuckled as Dean kept stroking the wingtips much to his amusement. After a moment, the hunter's smile faded.

"Where have you been?" he stopped caressing the feathers, expecting hesitation, but Cas responded normally.

"That... is a dangerous question." and smoothly he went back to squeezing himself closer as his hands left the hunter's face to find the hips of his boxer shorts. The kiss grew longer, deeper easily shutting up Dean who complied without hesitation doing the same, if not a bit more eagerly. It was all good, the warmth of their bodies pressed together, the little tug as Cas nibbled Dean's bottom lip. It felt simple, and it was good. The complications seemed to melt away as Cas shifted to pull Dean over top of him. There were no worries no king of Hell to come all guns blazing, no mysterious flying off. He might have been avoiding the question, but that could wait until later. They were alone, for the first time in a long time they were truly alone. His wings spread out so far off the bed so that he lay flat on his back. His hands snaked up Dean's arms, the right resting on the scar from the first time they touched. The raised flesh tingled at his touch. He wrapped the other hand around his neck to pull himself up to another kiss that Dean leaned into greedily. His arm that wasn't supporting his weight hefted Cas up closer by his lower back so their bodies almost touched.

Suddenly, something cold slid between his shoulder blades. Castiel pulled his tongue back into his own mouth to say,

"Don't ask questions." Frightened, Dean tried to pull away. But, that only aided the angel in lodging the blade deep through his back and into his heart. The hunter's eyes wide as he gaped at Cas' vacant countenance. Void of emotion, except perhaps hatred. The rusty blood gurgled up his throat to dribble from his lips. Looking to his chest he could see the tip of the long blade poking through his chest, gleaming in crimson as it dripped fluidly on to Cas' chest. With a sharp tug Cas ripped it from his back and admired the blood on the blade, ignoring the fact that Dean was about to collapse just inches above him. "When you know you won't like the answer." With a heartless smile and the familiar flap of wings, he was gone, leaving Dean to collapse to the bed, bloody and quite literally heartbroken.

"Oh My GOD!" Sam shouted. Dean inhaled with a start and his eyes flew open to see his brother lying in the other bed, covering his face with his hands. "I swear if you moan one more time!" He dragged his hands down his face to glare sternly at a hazy-eyed Dean.

"What?" Was the only response he could gather. Sam sighed and turned back to the ceiling.

"I know you're enjoying yourself but... UGH!" he covered his face with a pillow.

"Um, Uh..." Dean patted his chest, relieved that there was no longer a dagger protruding from his heart where Cas had ran him through. "Sorry. Weird dream I guess." It didn't feel like a dream though, it felt real.

"Well, keep your moaning to yourself. Garth is right next door and if he hears you say 'Cas' I'm not going to be the one to explain it." Sam declared, turning his back to him.

"Come again?" Dean froze. Did he actually say that?

"Would you like a recount?" Sam cleared his throat and imitated Dean's gravelly voice. "Cas, oh _Cas-_"

"Okay. Shut up! Just, shut up. I don't need a reenactment." Dean had vocalized his dreams occasionally but this time he wanted to crawl in a hole and die.

"I'm sure you don't." Sam replied like the smartass little shit he could be. Dean hurled a drool soaked pillow in his direction, which hit him in the face with a soft thud.

"Go back to sleep." Dean covered his head with another pillow and his brother sighed dramatically.

"I'll try." He rolled to face the wall again. "Good night."

"I hate you." He focused on the snowfall outside the frosted window, trying to push back the nightmare into the recesses of his mind, cramming it back into the depths that housed his losses and his hell.

**xXxXx**

"Castiel" Naomi addressed him with concern. "Do not tell me you've been having doubts." He did have doubts, he'd be stupid not to.

"No." he lied flatly. He tried looking into her eyes the way Sam and Dean did when they introduced themselves as FBI, but it came off as more of a death glare. Naomi pursed her lips in frustration. She leaned her elbows on the desk with her hands clasped.

"You do know what would happen should you question the will of Heaven." She spoke to him if he was a child.

"Yes." However, he couldn't shirk the feeling that Heaven had nothing to do with this at all. He could never seem to remember his summons. Sometimes he would blank out, like in that field. Ideas would come out of nowhere and urges would materialize with no provocation. Something had been nagging him in the recesses of his mind. He'd forgotten something there, but when he returned he found nothing but an old barn with a new hole ripped in its siding.

"I'd hate to lose one of my best soldiers." She smiled, but the gesture was empty. He might be irreplaceable, but that was only because she didn't want to get her hands dirty. "Now, " She continued, pulling out a tattered book with several markers between various pages. "New orders." Castiel swallowed stiffly at the frightening familiarity of the polished object she slipped out with the book and concealed in her lap.


	5. Chapter 5 - As it is Written

A/N: This will be the final chapter and I'd like to apologize for its length as it is over twice that of the previous chapters... and for being ungodly late... oops. I'd like to give a special thanks to my friend Tak aka BTRhpgeek21 aka the Dean to my Sam (no wincest) who without her help and incite this story would not be possible. Reviews and constructive criticism are much appreciated.

Enjoy chapter five!

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The boys had been waiting for hours before there was any sign of movement. Keeping their eyes trained on the doors of the warehouse while the waves slopped up against a nearby dock. The rea door popped open and the greasy smell of hot fast food leached into the car. Garth handed the brothers their bags before digging into his own.

"You make a mess the back; you won't live to finish that burger." Sam laughed at his brother's ferocity. He'd been very touchy since last night, especially towards Garth. Sam had wanted to tell his brother he'd exaggerated a bit on the noisiness of the event, but it was just too much fun to hold over him. Garth fumbled to keep all his crumbs in the bag and Sam rolled his eyes, noticing just then out if the corner of his eye the side door of the warehouse shifting slightly. He patted Dean's shoulder with his empty hand.

"Hey, we have movement." He pointed with his own burger to what he witnessed in the rearview mirror. Dean tossed his back into the bag and made for the door handle. "Dean, wait." His brother hopped out of the car with Sam trailing behind him, shortly after telling Garth it'd probably be best if he hurried round and placed the angel warding sigils on the building. He caught up to his brother and spun him back by the shoulder so they faced each other. Dean moved easier than Sam expected, because he knew.

"Dean look-"

"I know Sammy." His voice was a hollow mumble and he didn't move away from Sam's grip on his shoulder. "I know I can't stop anything. It's just-"

"Maybe you could?"

"I'm praying to whoever is listening." He said blinking to ward off the tears that threatened his stinging eyes. "I can't lose anyone else. Not you, not Cas, not anyone." Sam opened his mouth to console his brother, but voices coming from behind the warehouse door cut off both of their train of thoughts. One of the voices was weak and almost elderly sounding, the other all too familiar in its booming quality. A screech followed by the brightest white light burst from the cracks in the doors and windows. And then silence.

They made a run for it, bursting through the doors a second too late. The outline of wings scarred the floor beneath a lifeless body. A man stood above the corpse glaring down solemnly.

"Cas," Dean whispered. "Shit." Castiel turned to face the brothers. The sword in his hand was dripping blood carelessly onto his shoes. Dean gulped as the blade shone scarlet, trying to push from his mind the events of last night's nightmare. For a moment Cas glared blankly at them like he was thinking really hard about something, then confusion contorted his face.

"Oh you're not going anywhere, Smitey McSmiterton." Dean said, recollecting himself, striking his lighter and dropping it to the floor just behind him. A ring of holy oil took to the flames greedily, encircling the two where they stood. Garth entered the door behind them taken aback by the heat of the fire.

"The sigils are up like you wanted."

"Thanks Garth." Sam said.

"You shouldn't have done this." Castiel's gaze burned into Dean's but the hunter didn't dare look away.

"Well, it seems to be the only way we can talk anymore." He said, confident that Cas' angel mojo was waning, giving him the upper hand. He strode closer to him with more courage than he had with his palms out to show he was unarmed. "I just wanna talk."

"You're interfering with the will of heaven." Cas spat, acidic in his tone.

"No, no... well you see I don't believe that. I mean angels may be dicks and all but... you're murdering, Cas. Your own family."

"You know nothing of heaven's plans." Cas replied angrily.

"That's right we don't. So why don't you elaborate? Tell me who is giving you these orders." Castiel paused for a moment. His friend's questions were irritating and pointless. What good was it to him who told him what to do?

"No one gives me orders." He stated plainly.

"No something is up. This is not like you Cas." Dean argued. "What happened to 'I must save them since I've already killed so many'?"

"A moment of weakness, these fools must not be tolerated."

"No." Dean yelled. "Damn it Cas." Then he took a moment to think about what he just said. "What do you mean no one gives you orders?"

"I mean no one tells me what to do." He spat, getting annoyed at these obvious questions.

"So you're telling me that killing your brothers was your idea?" Cas didn't respond. He just glowered at Dean. The sigils were draining him, and it seemed he was having a hard time keeping himself upright. Dean turned back to his brother and nodded. Garth tossed him the book he used to place the sigils then left with Sam in toe to retrieve what they needed. Dean approached the angel warily. And when he threw a sloppy punch, Dean dodged it easily, catching his hand gently, but keeping his eye on the sword in his other. Only a little surprised at the attempt, he figured some retaliation was to be expected.

Garth returned to the door carrying a black duffle bag, some of its contents audibly sloshing and shifting as he jumped over the flames clumsily. Dean held Cas by this shoulder, unsure if he was actually holding the angel back or keeping the poor guy on his feet. The other two set out the ingredients from the bag, and Dean began leafing through the pages of the ancient book with his free hand before letting go of the angel completely.

"What are you doing?" Cas asked dazed. His words came out in a mumble and his legs wobbled to support him.

"This should actually be a bit familiar." Dean responded, but there was a bitter humor in his voice. Spotting a few of their key ingredients, Cas recognized the ritual.

"This won't work." His voice was sluggish and tired.

"Worked on you." Dean argued.

"It won't work because there is no one to find. You are looking for someone who does not exist." He explained. Why wouldn't they listen? Then again, he couldn't even explain his actions half the time. But he was sure it was God, his absent father returned to give him guidance through influential thought. It must be Him.

"I never thought you existed either, but here we are." Dean held back what he really wanted to say. That he should have never let Cas out of his sight, that he'd missed him. And that he wanted him back, daddy issues, post god complex baggage and all. But he wouldn't say that. He would stay cold and angry, at least until this was over. Sam and Garth had assembled all of the trimmings before gesturing to Dean to play his part.

He spoke slowly and clearly, making sure he enunciated every syllable of the incantation as Bobby had those few years ago.

"Is that it?" Garth asked, confused by the delayed effect the ritual had.

"Wait." Dean ordered. He remembered that day all too well, the day he met his first angel of The Lord.

"Are you sure we did it right?" Sam asked.

"I said wait." Whatever this was angel or not, it would come in time.

"It doesn't matter," Castiel huffed. "There is no one to come." He sat down on the concrete floor and he was beginning to look pale. Dean glanced worriedly at him; he hated doing this to his friend and potential partner he decided. And any future forgiveness seemed more unlikely by the second.

Suddenly the roof above the four of them began to rumble and shake.

"Here we go." Sam and Garth followed Dean's lead by pulling out their firearms. Feeling threatened by the action, Cas raised his sword. The rattling continued for quite a few minutes, progressively getting louder until all of a sudden, it stopped. The doors that had violently shook now sluggishly creaked open, a silhouette of a woman in the frame. Cas stiffened reflexively, he didn't like the presence of this woman, whoever she was.

"The Winchesters," She glared over the men before stopping at the angel, to whom she gave a deep sigh. "I should have known this would happen. I guess that nightmare did nothing to ward you off did it?" She directed towards Dean. Sam's eyes widened. That's why he was so damn determined. He wondered if that was why Dean's gaze kept shifting back to Cas' blade worriedly.

Castiel's face kept a mask of confusion. He recognized her from deep back in his mind. A place shrouded away in fear. He gripped tighter to the blade and wobbled a bit as a dizzying rush came over him. The woman appeared unaffected by the sigles. But only Castiel could see past what the other men couldn't.

"What are you?" The question took more effort to ask than expected. Dean turned to the angel.

"What are you talking about? She's your boss." He turned back to her. "Just another dick with wings." The woman raised her eyebrows but didn't make a move. In her mind the three of them were dead anyways. Castiel on the other hand, was too vital of a piece to lose right now.

"She is not... an angel..." He breathed.

"Then what is she?" Sam asked.

"My name is Naomi." She stated calmly. "And I'm afraid Castiel will have to come with me."

"Yeah, not going to happen." Naomi smiled confidently and stepped over the flames with ease. "What the hell are you?" Dean raised his gun, but she didn't even flinch.

"He asked you a question." Cas tried to sound intimidating, but the words came out in a muddled slur.

"I am your superior Castiel." She spoke calmly, like she was talking to a child.

"Yeah superior or not, why are you having him murder people?" Garth finally spoke up.

"Angels, not people." Naomi corrected. "We're just righting the wrongs, trying to keep heaven safe." Last time they checked though, assassinating your employees didn't fall under the 'safe' category. "Come, Castiel" She waved him over and the flames around them diminished into nothing. A shot fired, filling the room with the echoing sound of a bullet. Naomi hadn't even moved, she sighed at the exiting hole of the bullet in her chest examining the ripped fabric of her jacket and blouse. Then she turned her head to the source. A shaky, trembling Garth held the smoking gun. With a simple motion of her hand, the slight man went flying through the air, clanging up against the back wall with a crash. She turned back to Castiel knowing the man wouldn't have the strength to rise. "Now, aren't we a little beyond fighting?"

Castiel's will could no longer hold him on his feet. The boys had unleashed the entirety of the angel repelling precautions they knew of onto this building, and it was taking its toll. He slipped into unconsciousness.

It was obvious this Naomi wasn't an angel, that much Sam was sure. Panicked by the notion that she was something they've never encountered before he leapt on the thought that she could potentially be a demon, or at least something of demonic origin. He began to recite the Latin exorcism he knew by heart. She turned to look at him confusion and pity in her eyes. Seeing that the exorcism had no effect, he tried the Enochian one Castiel had attempted to teach him before his disappearance, fumbling over the lines he didn't quite know. It was supposed to be stronger, being that it was in the language of the angels. But, all it seemed to do was grant him an annoyed glare. Naomi was tired of these foolish games; she had a job to do. Another flick of her wrist and Sam was skidding across the floor, clanging hard against the metal door.

She spun back impatiently making a beeline for the angel on the floor Dean blocked her path, his gun pointed straight at her. A devil's trap carved into each and every bullet.

"You think this wise?" She inquired in reaction to Dean's advance. She could see right through this one. All of his little emotions wracking about in that tortured soul of his. It would be pleasurable to put him in his place.

"I think it's the only option I got." And without a second thought, he was up off his feet, dangling by her hand clutched tightly around his throat.

"I usually don't like to get my hands dirty." She said, looking up at the nuisance of a man who dared try to stand in her way. He dangled there griping tight against her one surprisingly strong hand. "Why all the struggle Winchester? It's not as if you could stop any of this. It was just... meant to be." That seemed to strike a chord in the hunter.

"That's just it Winchester, you're always fighting fate aren't you, thinking it will change? Well not anymore. Half the world is in shambles trying to clean up the mess you three have managed to make. How _selfish _of you to think yourselves above what is written to happen." She lowered Dean back to the ground. He noticed something familiar peeking from under her jacket. As she moved, a loose thread fell from the object, landing in a puddle on the ground. And Dean smiled. "What?"

"Funny." Dean explained. "I believe I might have met a sister of yours once. Sweet gal. A little magnet for accidents though." Even if it did feel like a dream he remembered when the Titanic didn't sink, and Fate flitted about cleaning up Balthazar's mess.

Naomi's face scrunched in disgust. "Do you mock us?"

"I laugh in your pitiful face." He struggled and let out a singular 'Ha'. Naomi's eyes narrowed. Dean was able to loosen her grip enough to allow him to keep talking and taunting. He began to explain how the other Fate couldn't even grasp at them. They had put themselves in all of these worst-case scenarios, but she failed to strike. (With the help of Cas' interference but that wouldn't help his point very much.) And besides, he only had to keep occupied long enough for the unspoken plan to play out.

Sam had gotten up onto his feet and quietly retrieved their guns and dagger that lay discarded in a corner after Naomi threw him. Overly infuriated, she hadn't even noticed that he was conscious.

"After all that, what makes you think that _you_ can kill us?" Dean egged her on, noticing his brother out of the corner of his eye, not daring to look at him straight on.

"If it's written in the stars." Naomi grinned and not a second after did Sam slink up behind her, thrusting their enchanted dagger deep into her back.

"Never cared much for that whole, 'destiny' thing." Sam said as he forced the knife deeper into her back. It sparked and fizzled as it would with anything else, save angels of course. However, the Fate seemed unmoved by the attempted homicide. Slowly she released Dean and he dropped like a stone to the paved floor. She turned to face her would-be assassin.

"Cute." She smiled sarcastically as she pulled the knife from her back before examining the blade for a moment. "Where did _you_ get such a beautiful artifact as this?" There was no blood, and from what Dean could see, there was no wound at all. Just a knife sized hole in the back of her suit jacket.

"Damn." Dean muttered scrambling to his feet. But Naomi was quicker then she looked. She spun fast and kicked low, causing a shattering crack to erupt from Dean's shin. The bone protruded through the denim as he slammed to the floor and his gun skipped across the concrete. Sam swung at the woman, missing by a hair and one swift, and high aimed punch brought his six foot four inches to his knees. When Dean came to past the agonizing pain Naomi was at Sam's throat, he was kneeling before her with the knife pressed threateningly against his jugular.

"You boys just don't know when to quit do you?" She flipped the raggedy hair from her eyes and admired her handiwork with Sam's very bloody nose. She pulled his head back by the hair at his crown, exposing his neck more so to the blade. Dean's leg kept him pinned to the ground.

"Pay attention Dean, I want to teach you what happens when you tempt Fate." She was just about ready to scrape the serrated blade across his brother's neck when a bloodied hand grabbed her shoulder and spun her around. Suddenly the familiar slice of a sword plunging into flesh silenced the three. A shining blade, scarlet with blood poked through her back.

She started to take on a glow, not white like an angel or the orange flame-like spark of a demon, but almost red like sunlight filtered through a vile of fresh blood. Her hands and feet began to disintegrate first, spilling down in piles of what appeared to be gleaming sand of the same color.

When the blinding light was gone and the Winchesters opened their eyes the woman was gone, melted before them in a pile of ruby-colored dust. What looked like a record book with gold thread for ribbon lay slightly buried in the remains.

Cas stood before the ashes with wide eyes. "That was... unexpected." He didn't blink as he contemplated what had just happened before him. Garth rolled over and groaned as he returned to consciousness. Sam scoffed at their predicament. Castiel had just ganked a Fate.

The angel's wandering eyes caught sight of dean, bloody and nursing his broken leg as best as he could. Which wasn't very effective due to his gaze being glued to Cas. He walked over quietly still little shaky.

"How did you-" Cas looked to the ground and shrugged slightly. He wanted to explain that a rush came over him, like he sensed something terrible. But the pale color of his face looked like he would vomit. "We gotta get you outta here. Sam!"

"On it!" He called already outside destroying the sigils sprayed on the walls. The color reappeared in Cas' cheeks gradually.

"Let me help." He laid a hand over the stomach churning breakage that left Dean's leg at a gruesome angle. "This may pinch a little." With a slight twitch of his fingers the bone snapped back into place. Dean bit his lip to stop his cry of pain. The bone was no longer sticking through the skin, which was a good sign. Castiel closed the wound but a scar in the shape of Castiel's fingers seared his skin where the bone had ripped through the skin. Dean inhaled sharply.

"Thanks Cas." The angel finally smiled, genuine and tired. Sam was retrieving their discarded weapons, wiping the blood that hadn't coagulated on his bottom lip yet as he came to what was left of Naomi. He picked up the book and then examined the red ash, rubbing a pinch between his fingers. Cas moved to help Garth up once he was sure Dean was able to walk on his own. Two fingers placed on the whimpering man's head silenced him into sleep. Cas hoisted him into his arms with ease and the brothers followed him back to the car. Dean opened the backseat for him and he slumped the unconscious body into the car. Sam had grabbed a sack from the trunk and was now back in the warehouse filling the bag with the crimson remains before they blew away on the wind. Cas closed the door and he and Dean were alone.

"Dean..." He started. "I'm so-" but the hunter pulled him into a tight hug, cutting him off.

"You don't have to be." He said. Cas hesitantly wrapped his arms around Dean. "Don't you dare leave again you son if a bitch."

"Okay." Cas replied into Dean's shoulder. They broke the hug when Sam returned. He didn't say anything but he smiled to himself, flashing his brother a knowing look. Dean sighed.

"You drive." he tossed the keys over the hood of the car to Sam's waiting hands.

"What do you think she was doing?" Sam asked as they set off on the road.

"I'm not sure. The pattern of what I believe she had me do doesn't make much sense."

"We'll make sense out of it." Dean said. "Eventually." What he really wanted right now was a drink.

Garth stirred in the back, waking to their conversation. "Next time, I'm staying home."

**XxXxX**

After leaving Garth at the houseboat to rest and fill in Kevin on what had gone down. The guys found and checked into a motel. After getting cleaned up Dean limped his way to Cas' door his leg still a little sore, but it was better than the alternative. He raised his fist but the door opened before he could knock.

"Hello Dean." He wasn't wearing his coat yet, he fumbled with his tie, and he couldn't figure out how it had ended up backwards.

"Hey Cas, can I come in?" Cas nodded still struggling with the tie.

"Here," Dean said removing the garment and rewrapping it around his neck so that it lay correctly.

"Thank you."

"No problem." Cas looked to the floor shyly, nervous of how Dean would feel about him after what he had done. His innocent brothers and sisters he'd killed.

"It's okay Cas." He said as if he knew exactly what Cas was thinking. "That wasn't you back there, I know that."

"But it was me."

"I don't deserve-" Dean cut him off; talking this much was starting to make his stomach heave. The kiss was urgent at first, and then it was nice. They broke away slowly. "...Your forgiveness." A small smile played on Dean's lips.

"There isn't anything to forgive."

**Later that night**

Sam rolled over in his bed waiting for his brother and the angel to return. A couple in the room beside theirs seemed to be having loads of fun. He rolled his eyes He'd left Cas and Dean at the bar hours ago and they still weren't back. He figured the two had a lot of 'catching up' to do which probably would be better if he wasn't there. A giggle came from the other side of the wall. He rolled over again trying to cover his head with a pillow. He really hated motels sometimes. The walls were just too damn thin. He pounded his fist against the wall.

"Could you keep it down there are people trying to sleep!" He yelled, irritated. The squeak of bedsprings stopped along with the moans and giggles. _Thank God._ He thought for a moment in the silence. _Wait wasn't..._

"Uh... Sorry sir..." Sam knew his brother's voice far too well to deny what he'd been hearing through the walls. With wide eyes, he looked at the clock. 3:36 am now seemed like the perfect time to take a walk.

He _really_ hated motels.

**The End**


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